


Private Aubade

by GuileandGall



Series: Violaceous Fury [35]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:50:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7441615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The harshness of sunrise gives way to a joy Troy continues losing the battle against.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Private Aubade

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was prompted by Chyrstis on November 05, 2014. It took me a little while to finish up, but it’s finally done. The prompt was “Furia / Troy: Morning Lazy Sex—morning sex with soft touches under the sheets and slow, hot kisses peppering jaw lines and lazy thrusts covered by whispered “I love you”s and small gasps.” Hope you enjoy it.

Troy needed to replace that broken slat in the blind. He remembered it every time a bright strip of light hit him right in the eyes at about the same time every morning. He groaned and rolled over reaching for the pillow to pull it over his face. Instead, he found something warmer and softer there. The infraction of sunrise all but forgotten, he scooted closer. Furia gave a gentle groan and wriggled closer to him in reply. A smile curved his lips; it was entirely involuntary as he folded himself around her. Peppering a few soft kisses on the back of her shoulder, the brutal awakening he suffered had been overwritten and he nuzzled at her neck breathing in the comforting scent of her.

Waking up beside Furia reversed the direction of his morning. There was no growling at the light, or fumbling for coffee to right that wrong. Instead he buried his face in the black, wavy cascade of her hair, not that he could really call that waking up. The familiar and subtle hint of vanilla clung to her, intoxicating him and anchoring him at the edge of slumber. His arms tightened around her as he took slow deep breaths, savoring every moment—the feel of her, the scent, the warmth. It wrenched a low hum from his gravelly throat.

Her fingers threaded with his, pulling the hand from her belly up to her lips as her body shifted against his in an effort to snuggle closer. That sensation, her pulling him around her like a comfortable quilt, wanting him closer—it did things to Troy, made him think and want things he still felt he had no right to. He should not want this, should not let her want it. Soft lips grazed his rough knuckles, ripping the thought from his head and drowning him once again in that moment. He wiggled his other arm around her, too, as he planted lingering kisses on her shoulder, up her neck. He stopped at her earlobe, giving it a slow suck.

Everything else disappeared. Her quiet breathing took on a hint of a pleased rumble, a sound he had come to recognize. When she turned her head, hazel eyes still closed, his lips found hers. The kiss was slow, lazy. Once she released his hand, Troy brushed his thumb along her jaw, then traced the length of her long neck. It started innocently enough—deep, slow kisses, fingertips grazing over warm bare skin, following the roundness of her hips and the curve of her rib cage. Breaking their kiss, Furia exhaled long and slow as his rough hand grazed the swell of her breast. When Troy opened his eyes, he found hers locked on his. She arched toward his touch, and he guided his hand away.

The pout on her lips made him smile. He nipped her bottom lip. Watching her, he moved his hand over the top of her thigh to the outside of her hip, then over her belly. She took her bottom lip between her teeth when his fingers teased just below her breast before moving away again. The noise she made, frustrated and bordering on impatient, made him laugh softly. When she pushed her hips back against his, he breathed a soft moan against her cheek.

The scent of her distracted him. After another deep breath and he had to ask again, “How do you always smell like that?”

Furia chuckled—a relaxed, gentle sound as he kissed the corner of her jaw. “I don’t know.”

“I swear you smell like a cookie,” he teased after taking in another breath filled with that scent of her.

“Does it make you want to eat me?” she asked with a giggle.

Troy squeezed her tight, taking a big bite out of her shoulder. “All the damn time.” He did it again, closer to her neck, earning a deeper moan and a retaliatory wiggle of her hips.

“I told you. It’s a vanilla shampoo.”

“Except you showered here last night.” His argument seemed sound as he nipped and sucked at her neck, near her jugular.

“Then it must be magic,” Furia groaned.

Troy hummed in agreement. “A powerful sorcery indeed.”

Furia rolled her hips against him. “You have no idea.”

He responded in kind, his freehand gliding up her body to cup her breast. “Guess we should be glad I’m good with being entranced, especially by you.”

Her hand moved over his, squeezing. He mimicked the motion, massaging at her breast with the same slow rhythm that her hips took on, while his mouth moved over her shoulder and neck.

Furia pulled at the sheet, dislodging it from between them while at the same time exposing them both to the cool, morning air. “Troy,” she muttered. Her hand moved over his again, her head dipping to nip the tip of his finger.

He guessed at the meaning. Their relationship, still relatively new, deepened rapidly. Troy might not know exactly what that tiny gesture meant, but contextual clues were everywhere—from the blush deepening on her neck and spreading down her chest to the way her breathing quickened and rose in volume. He turned her head, pressing a long, deep kiss on her mouth.

The movement of her hips against him proved almost more dizzying than watching them on the dance floor, though it held the same seductive fluidity. The teasing of her body against his intensified when she placed his cock between her thighs; every roll of her hips promised exquisite torture, which Troy tried to return with tempting touches, grazes of his teeth along sensitive spots that made her squirm, and claiming kisses which left them both breathless.

His skin alight, his entire body succumb to the way she moved against him. Her hand gripped his hip, suggesting to him she wanted more. His own brand of retaliation proved to fit the bill. With a firm touch, he blatantly pressed his hand down her belly without an ounce of pretense. Once he reached the apex of her thighs, his touch lightened, brushing the inside of her thighs with soft, teasing strokes before applying the same motion over her labia.

Moving deliberately and being only partially distracted, he gave great attention to the way she responded. As soon as her hips battled against her desire to thrust forward against his hand and back against his hips to repay the temptation, he crooked his finger to graze her clitoris. The choked moan and buck of her hips pulled his lips into a pleased smile.

Furia clutched his free hand, while her other hand scratched at his thigh. His finger dipped deeper, picking up a hint of her moisture before circling her clit. The whimper spurred him on, but Troy did not lose control.

No, he took his time. Nuzzling her neck and her ear as his single finger teased her, drawing a lazy path through her folds and inching closer and closer to her heat. The dip of that digit into her pulled a long, slow moan from her throat, one that made him ache. He wanted to savor every second of it, watch the goosebumps ripple over her chest, feel the way the movement of his hand between her legs made the muscles in her thighs quiver. He wanted other things too, but knew that would come soon enough. A lazy morning with her, whiled away in his bed, that was rare and too priceless to rush through. So, despite his rampant desire, he continued teasing, taking his time until her entire body quivered against his while she cried out in choked moans.

Furia relaxed against him, though her hips continued their mind-clouding motion against him. Her skin, slick with a sheen of sweat, tasted of salt. The tang on his tongue played on his senses, mixing with the scent of vanilla and the musky aroma of sex. His kisses were more gentle, lips grazing her jaw and cheek.

Once her body calmed from her orgasm, her hand joined his between her legs, but for a very different reason. She shifted, her fingers grazing the tip of his cock was intense. His hips snapped forward in response, bringing another change of sensation as he entered her. Troy’s breath shook against the curve of her neck; the sound of it echoing in the hollow created by her shoulder. Troy guided her mouth toward his to steal a deep kiss, that seemed to just go on and on. He attributed it to the languid pace and the fact their lips only separated to gasp in a breath or let loose a moan of pleasure before returning.

Neihter of them rushed. Instead they indulged in the laziness of the morning. Long, slow kisses matched the thorough, deliberate movements of their hips and hands. Each of them relished the other. As much as they wanted to drown in those sensations, it built.

He cradled her against him as he thrust into the roll of her hips, which pushed back against him with increasing greediness. His hand curved around her hips and dove between her legs again; his fingers traced circles firmly, as the pace roughened. His hips snapped as her glided fluidly. Their moans rose in wanton pitch. Furia came just before Troy; her body clenched so tightly he could not have resisted if he wanted to. Troy thrust until the sensitivity became unbearable; his finger still chasing circles around her clit until Furia was entirely spent.

Relaxation eked through them both. Her hands found his, and Troy hugged her tight. His chin rested on her shoulder for some time before he dipped his head to drop a kiss on her shoulder. “Good morning,” he mumbled, against her skin. It could have been empty sentiment, but for him, right then, it was anything but.

Her bright laughter, brought another smile to his lips. Furia turned a bit and Troy pressed his mouth to hers. “Buenos días, mi amor.”

The world started to creep back in as the sliver of light from the broken slat in the blinds chased them across the bed. Furia squinted against the light. Troy moved to try and block it, which put far more distance between them that either wanted.


End file.
